


Brinkmanship

by feckyeswriting (firelord65), thatfinalgasp (jeanetteinchains)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 2016 Reylux Fic Exchange, Canon-Typical Violence, Collaborative fic, Collars, F/M, Fake Relationship - Kind Of, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Dominant/Submissive Dynamics, Plot-Driven Fic, Political machinations and unresolved sexual tension don't go well together, Pre-Relationship, Slavery - Kind Of, Sparring, bed sharing, burgeoning polyamory, non-TLJ compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/feckyeswriting, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeanetteinchains/pseuds/thatfinalgasp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>brink·man·ship</b><br/>/ˈbriNGkmənˌSHip/<br/><em>noun</em><br/>The art or practice of pursuing a dangerous policy to the limits of safety before stopping.</p><p>---</p><p>The First Order needs to recoup their losses after Starkiller. General Hux receives orders to treat with the Sarkhai, an outer rim species that both reveres and heavily controls Force Sensitives in their culture. Hux's negotiations depend upon the cooperation of the First Knight and his reluctant apprentice, much to everyone's distaste. With the three in close quarters tensions rise, threatening to ruin all that the general is working toward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilsa13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilsa13/gifts).



> Eternal props to firelord65's unofficial / official-ish beta SymbioticDeath for helping to proof this and answer all the frantic comments of "oh fuck why does this sound wrong!"
> 
> This was a TON of fun to work on. We worked really well together getting the general story concepts out and our opinions on pushing plot over porn came together to create this quasi-period piece, quasi-trope fic, quasi-not-quite-normal-fanfic beast. 
> 
> Without any further adieu, please enjoy Brinkmanship!!

Rey had the knight on his back, but instead of fighting back he was staring up at her in wonder while bleeding out into the snow. His expression made her angry; how dare he look so young and surprised after what he had done. How dare he make her hesitate. 

“I wouldn’t,” called a voice behind her. Rey whipped around to see a First Order officer decked out in pristine uniform, orange hair a shock of color against the muted pallet of the snow, his expression calm and blank, a lion deciding if she was worth the trouble of the hunt. 

The man’s boot was in Finn’s back and his blaster trained just above that. Rey’s world slowed as she took the scene in, carefully shifting her stance as Kylo Ren shakily got to his feet; she wasn’t stupid enough to think he wasn’t still a threat. 

“You have a choice,” Ren’s low baritone rang out between them all, “You can watch your friend die and see how you fair against General Hux’s aim, or you can throw down your weapon--”

“So you can kill us both?” she snapped. 

“--agree to become my apprentice,” he continued, “and we will allow this traitor to go free.” 

The general made a choked noise, and Ren swiftly turned to lock eyes with him, even though his words for her, “These are your choices, girl. Be grateful that you are  _ valuable _ enough to have any-- your friend safe in a shuttle back to the Resistance, or his execution at your word. It’s up to you.”

It was no choice, really. Rey’s lightsaber dropped to the snow before the echo of his voice had died. 


	2. Chapter One

They had anticipated Rey would put up more of a fight getting onto the shuttle. Even six months into her time with the First Order, they hardly trusted her word. A full squadron of stormtroopers had trailed behind Kylo Ren when he arrived at her quarters to inform her that they were flying out. Rather than protesting, Rey had simply stood from her bed and gestured for Kylo to lead the way. She was a fighter, but Rey was smart enough to realize that trying to fight past Kylo Ren would never be a successful escape plan. 

No, she would wait and bide her time. Her agreement with the general and Ren would stand. For now. It had held for this long and she wouldn’t jeopardize it for so slim a chance to leave. 

She noted their progress through the Finalizer’s halls; the sheer size of the ship was daunting, always impressive. The hangar they arrived in was larger than the entirety of Nima Outpost. Rey tried to call up her mental maps of the aging Star Destroyer wrecks she’d grown up in to compare the scale. 

“We’re taking my shuttle,” Kylo spoke, interrupting Rey’s rough calculations. It was the first thing he’d said to her since her doorway.

“Of course,” she replied curtly. There was nothing else to say. He gestured for her to proceed him, his helmet tipping just so with the motion. 

It was a dance of formality, tension high between the pair. Rey hated it. She’d played this game dozens of times with traders back at the outpost. Fake smiles, wary glances. Two players not wanting to push too hard but also needing to see how much the other would give. Rey would go first and follow Kylo’s directions until it was her turn to push back. 

She started up the ramp, arms folded across her chest in the only form of defiance she dared to give. The shuttle hummed beneath her feet, waiting to launch. It was becoming a familiar feeling to Rey; this was not the first time that Kylo Ren had taken her offworld. More than likely, this would be yet another venture onto an abandoned planet for them to practice one of her many “lackluster talents.” Ren was a harsh master and he never shied away from telling his pupil exactly what he thought of her efforts. Perfection was the only acceptable goal, nothing less. 

Kylo Ren came along beside her and once again directed her to proceed into a small room off from the main hold. Rey blinked in surprise as she realized the room was already occupied. General Hux sat behind a table - the only piece of furniture in the room. 

“You’re late.” He didn’t even look up from his datapad. 

A pneumatic hiss sounded from outside the cabin as the shuttle ramp ascended. The troopers hadn’t followed them on board. Rey could see glimpses of men and women at parade rest before the ramp closed entirely. 

Kylo Ren was not as easily distracted; he was still laser-focused on Hux. “I was not the one who placed the girl in quarters halfway across the Finalizer,” he snapped in reply. Even the vocoder couldn’t disguise his obvious frustration. 

A smirk ghosted across Hux’s lips, gone by the time he lifted his eyes to look at the pair in front of him. “The fact still remains. We were intended to depart nearly half an hour ago,” he said curtly. As he spoke, the shuttle’s vibrations intensified before settling out. Rey felt the flipping sensation in her stomach as they left the Star Destroyer’s gravity field. 

“Where  _ are _ we going?” she asked.

Kylo’s mask turned to look at her. She imagined he was indignant, scowling at her from behind the black and chrome armor. “That’s none of your concern,” he retorted quickly.

“Ren,” Hux said, his voice terse. A warning.

The mask turned back to face Hux. Rey didn’t miss how Kylo’s hand curled into a fist, a silent protest. The dance progressed. She worried that the new player would throw off their push-and-pull, but there wasn’t much she could do to stop Hux from being involved. Her bargain did involve the ginger-haired man. Finn was alive and she was safe from torture. She could play along.

Hux turned his attention to Rey. He slid the datapad across the table before folding his hands in front of him. “We’ve been travelling to a small star cluster on the edge of the Outer Rim. Our destination is a planet outside the Republic or the Order’s reaches,” he explained. 

Rey picked up the datapad after making sure that Kylo wasn’t reaching for it first. Hux paused as she glanced over the entry that was open. It looked to be a report on a small planet on the outskirts of the galaxy, just as the general had said. She didn’t recognize the name.

She looked back at the general. “What does that have to do with me? I thought I was to remain on the Finalizer except when training with Ren. You don’t want me running off,” Rey said tersely.

“You wouldn’t dare escape, not on this planet,” Hux said with a chuckle. It unnerved her. Were they going to a slave planet? She would expect nothing less of the First Order than to treat with slavers, after what she’d seen of their single-minded goal for domination by any means possible. 

“Both you and Ren are critical to this diplomatic mission,” Hux continued. “And this  _ is _ a diplomatic mission. The Order needs additional resources to continue operating. The Sarkhai have more than enough of what we need to recoup our losses from Starkiller.” His voice turned bitter at the mention of the base. Rey felt no shame. The Resistance had struck a blow for intergalactic security as far as she was concerned. 

Kylo bristled. “Your orders were to bring me to the Supreme Leader,” he growled. “He will not be pleased at this detour. Why did you not tell me about this change in plans?”

Hux raised a slim eyebrow, his lip curling with disgust. “Do you  _ honestly _ think that I would disobey the Supreme Leader? These are our new orders. For both of us, as much as I wished otherwise,” he hissed. 

Rey looked back down at the datapad, still uncertain of what her place was here. The men could bicker back and forth about orders and duty. She would get to the bottom of her involvement as quickly as possible. “Why bring me?” she mused quietly to herself as the men continued to snap at each other. Her position as Ren’s apprentice hardly counted, at least in her own mind. 

She scrolled through the report. It was fairly succinct, explaining the main imports, exports, and political climate of the planet. They operated mining facilities as well as worked to supply other planets’ shipyards. Beyond that, the report offered no additional insights. From her best guess, the First Order was going to treat with the Sarkhai for their access to their durasteel and weapons research facilities. Rey suspected that it would take no small amount to recoup the losses from the destruction of Starkiller’s massive reserves. 

Finally she turned her attention back to the Hux and Kylo. They were practically at each other’s throats, sniping back and forth about what the general should or shouldn’t tell the Knight of Ren to do. “ _ Enough _ ,” Rey cut in. “I don’t give a damn about who orders who around. Tell me why I’m here other than to observe you acting like a pair of twelve-year-olds.” 

Hux looked positively appalled, turning his indignation towards Rey. “You will do as you’re told,  _ girl _ ,” he snapped. “Your presence here is for the benefit of the Order. If I could have left you in your cell, believe me, I would have.”

Rey swallowed hard. She had underestimated the general’s resolve. He continued after taking a moment’s pause. “That being said, I suppose you’ll need to know your part. The part that both of you have to play for the sake of the Order,” Hux looked pointedly at Kylo. 

Hux settled back into his chair, smoothing the front of his jacket with a sharp tug. Rey took this opportunity to slide into a chair of her own. “The Sarkhai are rather… superstitious.” The disdain in Hux’s voice was painfully obvious. “Their culture has advanced in a way that’s rather counter to our own. They are, of course, aware of force sensitives. However as they were never a part of the Old Republic, they never were a part of the Jedi religion.”

Kylo was nodding along while Rey struggled to follow why any of this was relevant. The Jedi Order had been gone for generations - Luke Skywalker being the only notable exception. “The Sarkhai believe that force sensitives are emissaries or conduits to the natural world. Beyond that, we don’t have a lot of information on the subject - we don’t yet have operatives on their planet - except for the understanding that your kind are essentially status symbols.”

Bile rose in Rey’s throat. “Status symbols? We’re slaves?” She could feel Kylo’s frustration in a cloud around him, tainting her own emotions. 

“Hardly. That’s barbaric,” Hux said with a wave of his hand. “Your kind are taken as courtly consorts. Er, perhaps ‘taken’ is poor phrasing, but the point is the same.”

A hiss sounded and Kylo tore his helmet off in a swift motion. “This is an insult to my position as First Knight,” he snarled. “Take the girl to be your consort to appease these people, but you will not waste my time and my dignity-”

Hux threw himself to his feet, slamming his hand on the table. “Do you think this is a  _ game _ ?” he bellowed. Rey resolved to never be at the receiving end of the general’s rage. His snarling remarks earlier were nothing compared to the barely-contained fury that was spewing from his lips. “This is war and you will  _ follow orders _ . The Supreme Leader has ordered that we shuttle down and kowtow to this pathetic excuse for a government for the benefit of the First Order.”

He narrowed his eyes and dropped his voice to a low growl. “You will obey or I will send you to Snoke with far worse than a scratch across your face.” 

Rey watched, wide-eyed, as the two men glared at each other. Slowly, his top lip twitching with contempt, Kylo placed his helmet on the table and dropped into a seat. “I am a loyal servant to the Supreme Leader’s wishes,” he murmured, all defiance gone from his voice.

Hux’s eyes flicked to meet hers, challenging her to speak up. Rey threw her palms in the air. “I do what I’m told,” she said, parroting back what the general had said minutes before. 

“Good,” Hux hissed, settling back into his own chair. “Then we can discuss specifics now. We will be arriving within the hour, providing that there are no further delays. When we do arrive, you will need to follow the rules set forth by the Sarkhai - we all will.” His voice was terse, though he looked to be relaxing the more as he fell back into his briefing. 

Rey tapped her fingers nervously on the tabletop. Being forced to act as a consort - courtly or otherwise - grated at her. In all her years on Jakku, she’d always clawed her way out of being under another person. “Due to the sensitivity of this mission, I will be acting as the First Order’s representative. I and I alone will be making whatever deal we negotiate with them.”

Rey’s stomach dropped. “This means that you, Ren, and you, girl, in the eyes of the Sarkhai are mine. There are some finer points with regard to the hierarchy of you versus any of the officers who I’m allowed to bring planetside, but that’s not important right now,” Hux explained with breathless efficiency. “Key points are that you’re still respected as having rights, will not be touched without my express permission, and any insult directed against you is taken as an insult against my honor.”

“What a relief that we have rights still,” Kylo replied, crossing his arms in a huff. “I was terribly worried that I wouldn’t be able to vote on key referendums while kissing your feet.”

Hux barked out a single, cruel laugh. “It was meant as a comfort that you don’t have to worry about being denied a fair trial when you inevitably break something valuable,” he sneered. 

“So what exactly do you need me to do?” Rey asked. It was time to get some answers. She had no interest in being Hux’s plaything, even in name only. “Stand and smile while you negotiate?”

“Precisely,” Hux answered with a nod. “See, the girl is following along just fine, Ren. Why can’t you be more like her?”

Both Rey and Kylo bristled, though their outbursts were anything but similar. “I’m far stronger than any untrained scavenger,” the knight growled.

“I have a name and it’s not ‘girl’ or ‘scavenger’,” Rey said sharply. “It’s Rey. Use it.”

Hux sighed before nodding once. “Fine,  _ Rey _ . And don’t get yourself worked up, Ren. It was a joke. Get used to being the butt of them.”

Rey pushed a stray hair back into place, a smug grin on her face. She’d scored another tiny win by getting the general to acknowledge her name. At this rate, she’d be able to gain enough of the man’s trust to steal the shuttle out from under his nose. Her escape plan relied upon playing on the men’s mutual irritation to keep them preoccupied. Keeping herself squarely in Hux’s good graces would be invaluable. 

“We can discuss the finer details about Sarkhalian culture in a moment, but I feel now is the best time to bring up one last major point,” Hux started once more. Once he got going, the man apparently could talk for hours. Rey never thought she would miss her silent confinement and yet, here was Hux. 

He stood once more and moved to a recessed storage bin in the wall behind him. Rey couldn’t see what he was doing, but the man returned to the table with a slim black case emblazoned with the First Order seal. Of course. 

The general snapped the latches and opened up the case before spinning it about to face the pair across from him. “While planetside, you are expected to wear these,” he explained. “Failure to do so puts both your lives and this mission at stake.”

Rey couldn’t stop the low hiss from escaping her mouth. Her hands tightened around the edge of the table. A pair of thick metal rings sat in the case, wide bands with a latch at the rear. Along the front face were a series of tiny crystals, glinting dully in the cabin lights. A miniaturized First Order seal was stamped on the direct center front of the bands, proprietary and impossible to miss.

“For people who aren’t slavers, these Sarkhai sure like their slave collars,” Kylo growled. He was right. They absolutely were slave collars. All the gemstones and precious metal coatings couldn’t negate the slim lock embedded in the latch. Rey noticed a keyring in the middle of the case, suspiciously lacking any keys. 

She chewed on her lip, struck silent by the sight in front of her. What hell had she gotten herself into now?

Hux slid the case even closer to the pair, ignoring how both Rey and Kylo edged away from the black steel collars. “You may not like it, but these are the rules we have to abide by, Ren,” Hux said, his voice low and steady. “If we do not, then I am coming to their trade councils with no honor, no power, no status in society. We  _ need _ their supplies. The Order  _ needs _ fresh weapon stocks for the new troopers.”

Rey shook her head slowly. This was her limit. This was her breaking point. They had pushed too far. “I swore to come along and play nice. I didn’t swear to collar myself to the First Order,” she whispered. Fear crept into her stomach and coiled tightly, overtaking her careful composure. “I won’t do it. You can’t make me!” A desire to shove both men to the floor and chancing stealing an escape pod rose up, just barely contained.

She looked to Kylo, grasping at straws to keep herself from being totally overwhelmed. The knight had to be just as enraged as Rey was, if not more. Collaring himself to the general had to be beyond what he would put up with. 

Kylo Ren was glaring hotly at the offending metal rings, but he didn’t flare into action. If anything, he was collapsing into himself, shrinking away from the challenge that Rey had raised. “You agreed to this, Rey,” Hux murmured. “I absolutely can make you do this. But first, I am asking.”

Rey’s attention flicked back to the general. He had sat back down again, rolling a gunmetal grey key across his knuckles. “Will you honor your agreement to the First Order, Rey? To me?”

She swallowed, fear making her mind race a thousand thoughts a minute. If she agreed, what new hell was she going to subject herself to? Then again, Rey also fought against her own worries that if she didn’t follow through with the devil’s bargain struck on Starkiller, she would have even less honor than the these men. It was the sticking point to why she’d spent six long months without once actually acting on her reflex to escape.

Worse, Kylo wasn’t even protesting the collar which somehow gave more weight to Hux’s argument. Why she valued the knight’s opinion at all was a mystery to Rey, but she didn’t have time to consider that. 

Rey closed her eyes, counted to five, took a deep breath, and opened them. “Alright. I’ll go along with your plan, General.”

Hux smiled. “Wonderful.”


	3. Chapter Two

Hux waited patiently in the bridge, surveying the crew as they orbited Sarkhai. Ren’s shuttle crew was a well oiled machine. They fell into a holding pattern effortlessly as the communications officer began the process of hailing the ground control units. Hux was thankful that the Sarkhai spoke Basic; communicating through a protocol droid would have been abhorrent. 

Ground control signaled that they could begin their descent. They’d been instructed to land in a hangar just outside of the capital. For all their preliminary talks, the Sarkhai were wary of letting a military shuttle within weapons’ range of their capital. From there, Hux’s entourage would be escorted by the palace guard to and from their destinations. A courtesy and a threat. 

He adjusted the collar on his uniform, checking that nothing had gotten out of place during the trip. The general didn’t fear whatever threat the Sarkhalian guardsmen thought they held. Ren and his apprentice - regardless of how little she had been trained - were more than enough to deal with a squad on escort duty. Beyond that, he was preparing a contingency plan once he could send their exact coordinates to the shuttle. In just five minutes the trained officers aboard Ren’s shuttle could have them extracted and sailing into the atmosphere. 

“I don’t understand why we have to change our attire entirely,” Ren growled from the rear of the bridge. Hux turned to look at his co-commander. Ren stood in the doorway that lead to the main cargo hold, crossing his arms and scowling furiously. It contrasted harshly with the soft, grey tunic and wide, patterned fabric belted around his waist. The fact that it was colored and contrasted harshly the knight’s uniform, but overall the style wasn’t terribly different from Ren’s usual attire. 

To add insult to injury, Kylo would be unable to wear his iconic helmet. Hux smirked, approaching the knight slowly. “There are strict customs surrounding force sensitives on Sarkhai. Personally, Ren, I would be glad that the only thing they’re concerned about is your outfit,” the general asserted. “If you were doing more than just visiting then you would abide by far more stringent guidelines.”

Kylo grimaced. “I thought we didn’t know much about these people,” he retorted.

“We don’t,” Hux admitted. “But we do know that most force sensitives don’t get to leave the planet. So enjoy your agency.”

He was interrupted from his train of thought by the reappearance of the girl. She’d entered the cargo hold and was lingering behind Kylo. The scavenger -  _ Rey _ , Hux reminded himself - often did that. She held back, watching rather than inserting herself into the conversation. She was smart, a tactician. Hux would have respected her if she even registered on his radar. Until she proved to actually be useful, she was a curiosity, Kylo’s pet force user, nothing more.

However once she caught his eye, Hux found himself unable to continue his rapport with Kylo. He pushed the knight out of the doorway and entered the cargo hold, returning his hands behind his back. “Now this  _ is _ an unexpected benefit,” he murmured, looking the girl over carefully.

She was clad in a matching grey tunic, though it hugged her frame more elegantly than Kylo’s did. The band around her hips sat just so, dipping in a gentle arc. Her hair was up, unchanged from her usual styling; though it somehow seemed more elegant with the tunic’s scooping neckline. Kylo floundered in the Sarkhalian attire; Rey flourished.

Hux stepped in front of the girl, his gaze finally returning to her face. Her lips were pouted defiantly and her glare rivaled Kylo’s. It shook Hux from his reverie, and the general licked his lips to cover his loss for words. “I have to say I was expecting more gauze and less layers,” Rey said, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

“You’re not a prostitute on a street corner,” Hux said, finally finding his voice again. “We’re dealing with an advanced culture, not a gangster crew of Hutts. The First Order wouldn’t deal with people of that caliber.” 

Rey raised an eyebrow. “And yet you’re alright that they treat force users like trophies,” she bit. 

“To be fair, they don’t have that many of them to begin with,” Hux countered. He was getting tired of this conversation. They were against a wall. No one had the supplies of durasteel they needed, not on the timescale the shipyards demanded. Not to mention the advantage they could attain by trading for the Sarkhai’s advanced weaponry systems. “I will only say this one more time: the sooner we make our bargain, the sooner we can leave. Then  _ we _ will have the supplies that  _ we _ need. Remember, you’re a part of this now.”

Rey snorted, looking away. “We’re landing. And you’re missing the last piece of our charade,” Hux said quickly. It wasn’t time for this debate. He pulled a keyring from his pocket, looking pointedly at Kylo. “Ren, if you could get the case.”

Kylo sneered, but he went to fetch the collars without a word. When he returned his shoulder slammed into Hux’s, but otherwise he didn’t protest. Hux closed his eyes for a moment and repeated his exhausted mantra to himself.  _ He’s loyal to the Supreme Leader. He’s critical to this mission.  _

Rey took the collar from Kylo, revulsion completely unchecked on her face. The general didn’t like it any more than either of them - there were so many more elegant ways of showing loyalty than by a slave’s collar - but he had the courtesy to keep a neutral expression. 

He’d requisitioned the bands specifically to each force user’s measurements, using internal security scans to obtain their biometrics. Rey’s collar was narrower, suited for her willowy frame. Hux stepped to stand behind her. The metal hinge opened just so to allow him to loop it around her neck before cinching firmly closed. 

Hux paused, his hand ghosting over the girl’s shoulders as she steeled herself. He could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was about ready to punch someone and barely restraining herself. The urge to wait and let her calm down was unusual and completely unwarranted. She’d agreed to the task at hand. Hux gripped the latch and turned the lock with his key. 

Kylo had put on his own collar, making Hux’s job even easier. Once they were both secure, the key went back into its secure pocket and the general nodded. The case went back into a storage bin, and all that remained was to wait for their escort to arrive; the shuttle had landed while Hux had been preparing his “consorts.” 

The ship’s commander stuck her head out from the bridge and signaled that their hosts had arrived. Hux smoothed his uniform once more and steeled himself. In the next few days, he would have negotiated a trade deal to secure the First Order’s fleets enough supplies to maintain their lines of defense as well as return to the offensive against the Resistance. He knew he was up to the task. It was only a matter of the master and apprentice next to him being equally prepared. 

\---

The Sarkhai used a series of electromagnetic trams to move from their main cities on the planet to the outlying regions, including the landing pad their shuttle had been directed to. It was farther away from the capital than Hux had been lead to believe. A fantastic start. It didn’t reflect well on the Sarkhai’s opinion of the First Order if they didn’t trust them to even park their shuttle within a forty-klick radius of the nearest actual city. 

They weren’t even met by a dignitary of high importance. Based on the woman’s wardrobe and the way she carried herself, Hux presumed she was a low-level bureaucrat. A deputy sub-assistant to the monarch with little to no prestige. She eyed Kylo and Rey with awe, the only positive that Hux could find in the entire exchange. The more that she fauned over his prized force users, the greater influence he could wield once he actually had the chance to appear in court. 

She introduced herself hurriedly - Griella Myzach, no title given - before bringing their entourage to the tramway. A carriage had been held for them, thankfully emptied of any locals. Hux was careful to observe how Myzach treated Ren and his apprentice. It appeared as though their intel was correct: Hux was assumed to be the one in charge, immediately followed by his consorts, and then his remaining officers. 

Throughout the entire tram ride, Myzach only spoke one or two times to point out interesting settlements or points of interest. Beyond that, she left the First Order crew to their own devices. Hux listened idly as Kylo attempted to use this time to teach Rey some minor skill in seeking out other force sensitives. Their religion, magic, whatever it was didn’t usually register on his list of things to care about, but in this instance he had to admit it was useful. 

The Sarkhai guards that were with them were a grim group. They wore simple green and gold leggings and tunics with what looked like ornately painted leather armor on top. While the armor looked elegant, matching each Sarkhai’s own facial paint in style and coloration, it wouldn’t stand a chance against blaster fire Hux noted with disdain. The Sarkhai were supposed to be the pinnacle of advanced tech in this sector. So why were their top guards for royalty and visiting dignitaries armed with stone-age equipment?

Hux chewed on that mystery for the rest of the ride, eyeing the pale-faced guards even as he listened to Kylo’s lesson. Neither offered much insight and when the tram arrived in the capital he was just as lost on both accounts. 

They departed from the trams and Hux was greeted with a proper Sarkhalian welcome. Twin columns of guards lined the steps leading out from the tramway, ending with their diplomatic envoy waiting patiently on the top landing. It was an effective set up; the general had to approach from the disadvantage, climbing up to meet his diplomatic counterpart. 

Myzach bobbed ahead of them calling out an introduction in what could only be described as a sonorous voice. It failed to ring out like it would in a proper receiving hall, but the intent was still strong. Hux inclined his head slightly as his name and title were declared, though he continued to meet the gaze of the lead woman from the Sarkhalian entourage. Ren and Rey were introduced with equal fanfare, declared as the Devotees of the great Lord Hux. 

It had a nice ring, Hux decided. He was never going to let Ren live it down.

Finally he was introduced to the diplomats in front of him. Leading the group with a carefully crafted smile was Duchess Clairvet, who Hux quickly realized was the sister to the current Queen of Sarkhai. She matched his polite head nod before sweeping her gaze back over his crew.

The others in the welcoming party were lesser nobility, merely meant to showcase the sheer quantity of courtly influence that was contained in the capital. Myzach had to clear her throat several times before the introductions were through. Then each side was allowed to speak openly.

Hux knew that first impressions were critical. He also knew that if he let the delegation in front of him speak before he did, he would be setting exactly the wrong kind of tone for the rest of the negotiations. The general stepped smoothly across the gap between the two sides, extending a hand in greeting. “My dear Duchess, it is truly an honor to be welcomed to Sarkhai by someone of your status. It is a pleasure to be graced by your presence,” he boasted with a wide smile. A bit much, perhaps, but he wasn’t going to risk insulting the royal by ignoring her status.

She was, after all, his direct line to the queen’s ear. 

Clairvet had to step forward just slightly to complete the handshake, which she did after a moment’s pause. “The honor is mine, Lord Hux,” she insisted. “The opportunity to be present at the birth of a partnership with the First Order is truly a great one.” 

Hux chafed at the usage of the word “partnership,” but it wasn’t enough to throw him completely. Ally, partner, trade partner - they were all meaningless in the end. “I must say, our reports of the beauty and elegance of your homeworld were sorely understated.”

They exchanged a few base pleasantries before it was made clear that no real dialogue was going to happen. Hux was too controlled with his compliments, the Duchess with her willingness to speak of the upcoming trade possibilities. “Come, we will speak at length of these our coalition tomorrow. For now, there is a reception awaiting in the main hall of the palace. My sister and her husband are eager to treat with the emissaries of the illustrious First Order,” Clairvet asserted finally.

With that, it was only a matter of getting into the waiting transports - carefully decorated with the royal colors of green and gold - and they proceeded through the wide pathways to the palace. Sarkhai was a forest planet with towering treetops and the ground a collection of wayward fallen leaves. The buildings around were starkly different from the First Order’s durasteel and black marbled architecture. They were made of wide wooden planks and what looked like carefully shaped tree trunks to be an organic rather than industrious cityscape. There were still the tell-tale signs of industry and development peppered throughout - doors slid open with the unnatural speed of automation and smoke belched in the distance from heavily disguised factories - but the facade was impressive. 


	4. Chapter Three

In the end, the reception was just as impersonal as the event at the tramway. Despite assurances that they were the guests of honor, Hux was barely given the opportunity to greet the monarchs before the rulers of Sarkhai were swept off to some other affair. Before too long, the general and his Devotees were left with the same collection of lesser nobility to chat with about weather patterns and the current inter-galactic economy. 

Hux spotted the warning signs of Ren growing tired of being polite before things escalated to a critical point. Rey was doing better managing a content, blase expression, but then again she was far less explosive than her master. Once Ren began gripping his knife in an underhand fashion, the general knew it was time to tactically retreat. He wasn’t getting anywhere with the lower nobility, regardless. 

Myzach appeared from an alcove at Hux’s request and lead them deeper into the palace halls. She chatted nervously about the statues of iconic kings and queens of Sarkhai scattered along their path. It was adorably quaint. She might not have been of use in the political arena, but it was useful to know that they had a dedicated aide at their beck and call. 

Though the room they were lead to was beautiful, it left much to be desired beyond aesthetics. Hux never did understand the preference for opulence over practicality. He could appreciate the effort that went into crafting their given room; the interior was bordered with columns layered with platinum and gold leaf, and a richly colored mural covering the entire ceiling. Ornately carved armours stood against the walls, their feet ending in roots which burrowed into the deep brown stone flooring. A delicately carved door lead to a modern refresher unit. It was all quite stunning and utterly pointless beyond showing how willing the Sarkhai were to waste money solely to impress visitors.

Beyond the armours, the only other piece of furniture was a bed which consumed the vast majority of the room’s open floor. Calling it a bed was an understatement; the carved headboard alone must have cost nearly as much as a TIE Fighter. Ren’s jaw went slack - a terrible look on his already long face - and he immediately set to complaining. “This can’t be happening.”

With a quick wave of his hand, Hux implored the First Knight to be silent. It wasn’t just his nightmare that there would be only  _ one _ bed available for sleeping on. “I’m sorry, I think there’s been a mistake,” Hux pressed, his polite smile falling to a grimace. “These quarters can’t be for me.”

Myzach flushed, pulling out a datapad to check. “I’m certain that this was the room I was to bring you to, Lord Hux,” she squeaked. “See, South Wing visitor’s quarters.” The text on the screen didn’t lie. They’d been assigned the single room for the “visiting dignitary from the First Order and his accompanying Devotees” for an indefinite period of time. 

Rey tried to speak next, her tone firm even as she gently laid a hand on Myzach’s shoulder. “You can’t honestly expect that one bed is acceptable for three people,” she said quickly. 

“It’s the largest we have, Devotee Rey,” Myzach replied, the flush creeping farther along her neck. “We’re not accustomed to visiting dignitaries who are quite so, ah, blessed with Devotees. I beg your pardon.” In other words, it wasn’t a mistake that there was only one bed, just that it was intended for two people rather than three.  _ Fantastic _ .

Before another complaint could be issued, she bowed out and left the trio standing by the front door. The other junior officers had already been sent to their rooms - smaller, but far more private quarters.

Never in his life had Hux resented his rank quite like he did now. 

“I suppose this is just another unexpected part of Sarkhai culture,” the general admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. 

Now that they were behind the privacy of a closed door, Ren let loose his full opinion upon the world. “ _ Unexpected part of their culture _ ?” he hissed. The knight stormed right up to Hux, jabbing him in the sternum with a finger. “I swear to any being listening in the galaxy that if you don’t get me a private room-”

“You’ll what?” Hux spat back. “You’ll throw a tantrum and jeopardize the mission for the sake of a single bunk and a space to call your own? I knew you were selfish, Ren, but I never thought you valued yourself above the entirety of the Order.”

Rey stepped physically between the men, shoving them away with her palms. “Shut up, both of you. The walls aren’t that thick,” she murmured. Her voice was low and dangerous. 

“General, I swear if you knew about this and chose not to inform either of us, I will join Kylo’s quest to eviscerate you. Kylo -  _ master  _ -” she only called him master when she wanted something badly enough “- you need to remember that we’re not on the Finalizer anymore. I hate this just as much as you, but we need to keep playing along.”

Hux smirked. “Your apprentice has more wisdom than you, Ren,” he taunted. The knight’s reaction was well worth Rey’s scathing glare. “We  _ all _ need to keep playing along. Or did you not notice how not a single word has been spoken of our impending trade negotiations?”

Kylo whirled around and stormed into the ‘fresher, the door slamming loudly behind him. Rolling his eyes, the general stepped into the room proper and began taking off his boots. “How do you stand his temper?” he asked Rey, watching her from the corner of his eye.

She remained on the edge of the room, lingering by one of the corners rather than joining Hux by the bed. Rey talked a big game, but she feared placing herself by the general and the bed just as much as Kylo did. “He has his moments,” Rey replied dryly. She didn’t elaborate and Hux didn’t press further.

Instead, the general proceeded to strip off his uniform, throwing his jacket over the top of an armour to remain at least slightly unwrinkled. Fresh clothes had been promised in the drawers, but that was no reason to be careless with his own. Rey looked anywhere but at Hux, her attention suddenly locked on the mural on the ceiling. His smirk returned and Hux clamored under the blankets. Only when his waist was sufficiently covered by the duvet did Rey meet his gaze. 

“You really are a fascinating creature,” Hux teased as he shifted the pillows to a properly comfortable configuration. A good half dozen decorative pillows found themselves by Hux’s feet. Still Rey remained against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. The sound of the sonic shower turning on thrummed through the bathroom door. 

She was actively pouting. “I’m not getting in that bed,” Rey growled. “No force in this galaxy is going to make me.”

Hux barked out a laugh. “So you’re going to sleep where? In the sonic shower?” he teased bitterly.

“Maybe I will! I’ve slept in worse places.” She turned her head to look away again which only served to showcase her reddening cheek. The girl was nervous and embarrassed. It hadn’t even been that long of a day; tomorrow would be worse for her and Kylo. Perhaps Hux would take pity on them and see if he could arrange for them to be given time away from the negotiations and the public eye. 

“What happened to ‘playing along?’”

Rey snorted. “I meant only that Kylo shouldn’t complain about the room, not that we should actually pile together,” she retorted. 

Hux tipped his head. “And if someone comes in and sees that I’ve been utterly abandoned by my Devotees?” he asked, feigning hurt feelings. “What would our hosts think of that?”

The shower clicked off. A low murmur took up the background noise of the room; Kylo complaining, most likely. 

Her arms thrown over her head, Rey huffed. “ _ Fine _ . You win, General. I have one condition though.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m not sleeping next to Kylo.”

“Might I ask why?” Hux questioned. He was intently focused on her now, examining her face as she finally approached the bed. 

“You may not.” Red re-appeared on her cheeks before she turned around. “And stop staring. We’re supposed to be sleeping, not gawking at each other.”

Hux chuckled as he settled back against the pillows. A small adjustment and he was in the center of the bed. Rey dimmed the lights - they glowed softly from the tops of the columns, bathing the room in an artificial dusk. Hux felt rather than saw Rey slip under the covers, a foot experimentally checking where his were. 

“Night,” Rey said simply before rolling to face the wall. 

“Goodnight, Rey,” the general replied quietly. 

A rectangle of light streamed into the room, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared as Kylo loomed in the doorway. 

The knight hovered there, outlined in golden light. “If you think you’re claiming that bed for this whole trip, you have another thing coming, Hux,” Kylo threatened. “I’m not going to sleep on the floor for an entire week.”

Hux closed his eyes and counted silently to five. “We’ve already gone over this. We’re sleeping here. It’s large enough for all three and we’re all mature adults - at least Rey and myself are,” he taunted. 

The fight went out of the knight as he noticed his apprentice was apparently already asleep. Hux whistled quickly, causing Rey to start. “Come, beast, before I drag you over here myself,” he teased. He patted the open space next to him, grinning the whole while.

“I’ll get you for this one day, _ General _ ,” Kylo muttered darkly. 

He didn’t say goodnight. How rude. 

\---

Rey never slept well in soft beds, less so with her once enemies - when had she stopped thinking of them as  _ current _ enemies? - snuggled up behind her. At least it was the General, and not Ren, pressed against her hip. Rey could feel his hot breath ghosting across the nape of her neck as she squinted into the morning light. She shifted slowly to avoid waking him, but that turned out to be a bad plan; wiry arms of lean muscle suddenly hauled her back against him, his hand a vice around her throat. 

She struggled against him out of instinct before she became very aware of two things: the squeeze of his fingers on the stuttering pulse in her neck, and the firm press of -- something -- into her backside.  _ Oh _ . He made a noise in her ear that was half choke and half groan before shoving her as far away as he could. She used her momentum to jump to her feet, rounding back at the man in the bed. They stared at each other, both breathing hard. 

“Apologies,” he huffed without meeting her eyes, “Old habits. Never startle a military man in his sleep.” She watched as he ran a hand through his hair. She’d never seen a hair on his head out of place before, and was startled to realize that the bedhead made him look...oddly human, but most definitely  _ not _ cute. 

“Looks like Ren missed his time at the academy, then,” she snorted, glancing at the man who slept like the dead at the general’s back. 

Hux looked over his shoulder and poked the sleeping knight. “Yes, well that’s hardly  _ oof _ \--” the rest of the sentence was lost behind the giant hand Kylo flung over Hux’s face while he sleepily entwined his legs with the general’s. Rey couldn’t hold her laughter in as she watched Hux struggle to liberate himself from the dead weight of their massive bedmate. 

“Bloody buggering hell, get  _ off _ you great beast!” he shouted. Rey only laughed harder when Kylo cracked one bleary eye open to find himself face to face with the livid redhead. 

“I’ll just leave you two alone,” Rey announced through her laughter as she made her way to the fresher. 

\---

That afternoon, Myzach guided the trio carefully through the noisy halls of the colosseum, directly to the royal box. 

“Pointless banter, endless banquets, and now gladiatorial games? When will we get to the actual negotiations?” Kylo hissed at Hux’s side, brimming with fury.

The general spoke from the side of his mouth as he continued to smile, “These games are a part of their tradition and so help me Kylo you will keep your temper through them.” 

“And how can you complain about the food? If they keep feeding us like that, I say we stay here forever,” said Rey. 

Kylo and Hux turned to her with matching frowns. “If you keep up your horrifying table manners, you won’t be allowed at the next meal,” warned her master, “you almost gave them a stroke when you licked your bowl.” Rey flushed but kept her thoughts about wasted food to herself. 

Upon arrival, Hux gladly accepted the seat he was offered next to the duchess, but felt a stab of worry when Myzach indicated that Rey and Kylo should be seated upon the large pillows at his feet. Rey plopped to her knees, falling easily into meditation to avoid the embarrassment of the situation. Ren knelt slowly without a word, but his eyes locked with Hux’s in a silent promise of violence. A shiver ran up the general’s spine and it was not entirely inspired by fear. 

The duchess proudly introduced her husband and son to the general. The duke was a nebbish youth no more than half his wife’s age, and her son a quiet boy obviously more fascinated by the force users at Hux’s feet than the fights raging on the field below. Hux watched the boy carefully, keenly aware that this child was the heir to the Sarkhai throne until the queen produced a child of her own. 

“In Sarkhalian culture,” the duchess explained, gesturing to the field below, “combat is considered the most universal form of communication, even more so than Basic. Each battle reveals a different truth to the fighters, and tells a different story to the observer.” 

“I think it’s why the elders don’t trust force users, because they’re fighting in a different language,” chirped the boy. Hux raised a brow at this. 

“The things you say, my son!” the duchess tittered, “I assure you Lord Hux, modern Sarkhalian culture embraces force users, despite what you may hear,” she said with stern eyes on the boy.

“Perhaps to our peril,” muttered her husband. 

“That’s quite alright,” Hux said, ignoring the jab. “Tell me, young Duke,” the general said as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “have you ever seen a battle between force users?” The boy’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “No? It’s truly a sight to behold; weapons of pure light clashing, two forces of nature locked in a dance only they know the steps of, and all the while they manipulate the very air around them to push and pull at each other.” 

The royals were clearly intrigued by the picture Hux painted, all eyes falling reverently to the kneeling knights who were Order and Chaos personified. “Would you consider,” began the duchess carefully, “a demonstration?” 

“What do you think, my dears? Shall we show our gracious hosts the power of the force?” Hux asked with a squeeze to Kylo’s shoulder. Hux knew Kylo was a storm that could only be still for so long, and he might well prefer sparring to diplomatic chitchat.

“With pleasure, my lord,” murmured the knight, his voice low and placid. 

The duchess smiled at her eager son, “You truly honor us, Lord Hux. Griella will escort them down to the arena entrance and have the field cleared.” 

Their guide quickly ushered the warriors away while Hux surveyed the field, eager to see how his powerplay would unfold. 


	5. Chapter Four

Ren was livid, but Rey was the one yelling. "You don't find it offensive that they ordered us to fight each other like slaves?" she screeched. 

Kylo snorted. "Order us? Let them try."

"Then what are we doing?"

"Getting out of that dull diplomatic mess."

She trotted to catch up with him. "I did not agree to this! I did not spend my life dodging slavers on Jakku just to become one now.” 

"That would be your problem, not mine,” he called over his shoulder, “though I notice you didn’t mention that when the general was putting that pretty little collar on you. Or maybe you’d just prefer to be kneeling on a pillow at his feet, instead of in the dirt at mine?”

Kylo regretted his words when he felt a pulse of shame from her. "We’ll see who kneels. Or I should remind you which of us is faster?" She snarled.

Kylo whipped around and pressed her up against the wall. He’d had enough of her. "Is that to give me the opportunity to remind you which of us is far, far stronger?" he breathed into her ear. He felt her reaction to him instantly, even if she denied it to herself. 

His body was a crushing wall against her small frame, and Kylo felt Rey’s heart stutter in panic at the heat of him pressed against her just before she force shoved him away. 

He barked a laugh and her gut twisted at the sound, or perhaps that was his? They each felt their emotions echoed back at one another until they often could not tell them apart, and it was slowly driving him mad.

"But perhaps it’s time for a lesson in yielding,” Kylo said, giving her his best smile as he carefully licked his teeth. If she wanted to play dominance games, he’d show her exactly how it was done. 

“I look forward to it, master,” Rey grit through her teeth as they walked into the arena, the crowd’s cheers crashing against them in waves.

He could feel the jumble of her emotions; she was angry and flustered and uncertain of what had just happened, but he’d made her feel something dangerous and all she knew was that she wanted to make him  _ bleed _ . What she didn’t know was that he was happy to oblige. 

Rey kept her eyes on Kylo while he shed his gray outer robe, standing only in his black pants and undershirt. Rey followed suit until they were dark twins circling each other. 

Another roar from the crowd went up as they ignited their sabers. For all his calm a moment ago, Rey could feel his rage and frustration bubbling close to the surface and was not surprised when he quickly charged her in a ferocious display of whirls and kicks.

Often times when they fought, Rey slipped between his attacks, letting him tire himself out before striking at him herself. This time she charged him right back, flying on the power of her anger, and it was a glorious sight. The shock of their meeting was enough to send him dancing backward, but his footwork did not falter.

Strike for strike their lightsabers kissed with a ferocity that left them both trembling. Kylo focused on his attacks, forcing Rey to use her full concentration to defend. He caught her with a kick to the head that sent her sprawling in the dirt. Rey barely rolled away from a strike that scorched the earth, and then she was on her feet again. 

Kylo sauntered to her and he saw himself through her eyes, strutting like a panther feigning disinterest in its prey but closing the space between them all the same. “Use your anger, don’t let it use you,” he warned, and then he rushed her again. 

Rey was ready for him, bracing herself for the clash. Sparks flew from their interlocked sabers as she used his own momentum to drive him to one knee. “Is this how you prefer me,” he panted through his effort, “on my knees? All you had to do was say so.” He was rewarded with a wave of anger and excitement from her. 

Kylo sprang into the air, swinging downward to drive her back. The move purposely left him open, and Rey did not miss her chance; she kicked him as hard as she could in his ribs. They locked eyes as they heard the crunch of his bone and he felt a perverse sense of pleasure coming from her, or was that his? His head was jumbled with the pain, As he reeled, she used the moment to crack him across the mouth with the butt of her weapon. That satisfaction, he was sure, was entirely hers. 

He looked ghastly, Rey thought at him, smiling with blood across his teeth. Perhaps she sensed, but didn’t understand, that he was enjoying himself. 

His hand cut through the air, sending her lightsaber flying from her grasp. Instead of retreating, she sprang forward, grabbing the base of Kylo’s own lightsaber and locking their hands together. His grip was stronger, but she dug her nails into his fist, tearing at his flesh as she tried to knock him off balance with her shoulder.

Their hands grew slick with his blood as and bodies pressed together, hard and panting. “ _ Vicious _ ,” he gasped into her ear. Rey shoved against him with everything she had and he tumbled backward. Unfortunately for Rey, he took her down with him. 

By the time they hit the ground she was straddling his hips, his weapon out of their reach. She unleashing a flurry of punches he was forced to block, gripping him with her thighs as he twisted and bucked to throw her off. Stars, this was delicious torture. She jammed her knee into his cracked rib, earning a laughing grunt from him before he drove his elbow into her stomach, using her shock to roll her under him.

He pinned her wrists above her head and breathed against her lips, “Yield to me.” She was still beneath him, staring at him with an expression he couldn’t read. Kylo recklessly dropped his defenses and dipped into her mind:

_ With every inch of the the man above grinding her into the ground, time slowed to a crawl. Her senses were bombarded with him-- she smelled the blood on his breath, saw how impossibly dark and heated his eyes were as they locked with her own, felt the pleasure rolling off of him as they slid against each other, while she was helpless to do anything but stare into his damned beautiful face, scar and all.  _

Instead of yielding, she wrapped her legs around him, rocking against him hard enough to bring them to an entangled seated position. She used her momentum to headbutt him, springing up fast enough to knee him in the throat, putting him flat on his back while she grabbed his saber. 

He rolled onto his hands and knees, coughing blood into the sand. It had been worth it. The hum of his own lightsaber buzzed near his ear. He looked up to find Rey standing above him, a coldly furious goddess as she demanded, “ _ Yield _ !” 

Kylo grinned and raised his hands in surrender, sitting back on his knees. “I yield!” he shouted, his eyes never leaving hers as he happily licked his own bloodied lips. She may have earned the yield, but he had the victory. The the clamor from the crowd made it impossible to be heard, but he whispered into her mind and she heard him all the same: 

_ I think you enjoyed that a little more than usual. _

\---

In the royal box, Hux released a breath he’d been holding too long. The force users limped off the battlefield together, and it seemed the bloodletting was finally over. The duchess coughed primly, getting his attention. 

“I apologize for suggesting the fight, I did not realize your Devotees were a love match; I had assumed you collared them for their power.” 

Hux furrowed his brow, but waved the comment away, “No apologies necessary, they served their purpose.” 

The duchess glanced down at his hands, which Hux realized were still clutching his armrests. He relaxed them immediately before meeting her eyes again.

“You obviously care for them very much,” she said softly. 

He was not prepared to deal with this line of conversation, there was too much potential for a misstep. “I beg your pardon, but I must see to them,” Hux said as he stood. The duchess nodded her approval of his departure, but he did not glance at her, his feet already moving toward the exit. Those that witnessed the general’s furious march to his rooms had the good sense to get out of his warpath. 

Hux threw the suite door open swiftly enough to see the force users spring apart, the gauze Rey had been wrapping around Kylo’s bare torso landing softly in the plush carpet of the silent room. Rey guiltily avoided his eyes while Kylo met his gaze with an annoyed stare. 

“What the  _ kriffing _ hell is wrong with you two? You were meant to spar, not beat each other bloody!” he bellowed. Now they were both back to glaring at him. 

“I beg your pardon master, your command was not terribly specific,” Kylo’s sarcasm frayed the last thread of Hux’s self control. 

“You almost killed each other, you’re bleeding everywhere, look at you! What were you thinking? And  _ you _ ,” Hux bellowed, rounding on Rey, “I expected more restraint from you. While I can certainly understand wanting to kill him, we don’t actually beat the First Knight  _ to death _ !” 

Rey had the good sense to look ashamed of herself, but Kylo could never be said to have good sense. “General, enough!” Kylo warned, “Rey did exactly as instructed. I simply lead my apprentice through an exercise, and it does not concern you. You would do well not to interfere in matters of the force.”

Hux grabbed Kylo by his shoulders and slammed his back against the wall. “An exercise?” The general’s voice was deceptively calm and quiet. “In the middle of our negotiations?” 

“ _ Kriff  _ your negotiations, we did exactly what you asked.” Kylo said, tilting his chin in a challenge. 

The general clenched and unclenched his jaw before he spoke again. “And did it ever occur to you, either of you, that I might be concerned for your lives?” Hux asked. 

“Actually, no,” Kylo said flatly. Rey gave Hux a look that clearly expressed confusion at the idea, perhaps confusion at the whole ridiculous situation. 

Hux released Kylo, dragging both hands through his hair. 

“General,” Kylo purred in his ear, “I had no idea you cared.” Hux put his fist through the wall inches from Kylo’s smug face before striding out of the rooms. 


	6. Chapter Five

Finally they were allowed the chance to engage in actual negotiations. And did they ever engage. Oh stars did Rey wish they’d _stop_ negotiating. Six straight hours at the table - Hux had failed to mention that days on Sarkhai were long - followed by a short luncheon and _another_ six hour block in the damned discussion hall.

There were only so many times that Rey could count the tiles in the tabletop mosaic before she wanted to flip it. From what she could gather, both parties understood the position of the other. The Sakhai refused to match the prices requested by General Hux without additional assurances that they would end up a greater power in galactic politics.The First Order did not yet wield the galactic influence that they needed without the resources and weaponry they sought to purchase, nor did they want to give up as much power as the Sarkhai were requesting. As such, they were at an impasse, neither side quite willing to make the jump to trust the other.

That’s not for lack of trying on either side’s dignitaries. The general had made several impassioned speeches about the glory that the First Order would be able to bring to Sarkhai just as the duchess regretfully detailed how they needed more money upfront with precise figures. The back and forth then devolved into detailed queries into the effectiveness of each of the Order’s conquests and something called a risk/return ratio.

It was all nonsense to her.

Rey checked the chrono sitting on the table, eager for it to hit twenty hundred hours. They were only minutes away, and Rey had extracted assurances from Hux that they would finally be able to return to the privacy of their room at that point. Things were looking good as final points for the day were wrapped up.

“I do hope that today’s stalemate won’t sour your mood for this evening’s event,” the duchess said as her aides began collecting datapads. “The gala is always such a fantastic night and you’re lucky that your trip coincided with it.”

Sitting up quickly, Rey looked sharply at the general. “What gala?” she hissed between clenched teeth. “You said there was nothing else on the schedule for today.”

“One day you’re going to realize I don’t know everything, and I pray it comes soon,” he said in reply. The general sat up straighter in his chair and folded his hands delicately. “I’m afraid you have us at a disadvantage, Your Grace. What gala?”

Surprise filtered across the Duchess’ face. “Why the celebration of Graal Tak of course! It’s a festival during the spring. We’ve celebrated it for almost two hundred years at this point,” she explained brightly. “It’s quite the affair. The queen asked me to ensure that you would feel more than welcome to attend.”

That was it. There was no backing out when the invitation came down from the queen herself.

Rey couldn’t see her master sitting on the other side of the general, but she could picture just how furious he was becoming. Her stomach twisted and she quickly thought of anything but the First Knight in a bloodthirsty rage. She heard him cough, a terribly disguised chuckle.

Hux leaned over to murmur something to him before turning back to the duchess. “We look forward to attending, Your Grace,” he said between gritted teeth.

\---

There was a short scuffle in their room almost as soon as their escort left them. Rey refrained from joining in, sitting cross-legged on the bed as Hux fended off an enraged Kylo. “It’s not,” the general snarled, “my _fault_ ! If you would - sonofabitch - listen to me you would - _ow_ \- realize that.”

He got a lucky strike upside Kylo’s head with an elbow. It knocked some sense into the knight. Or Kylo just didn’t want to further agitate his injuries from yesterday. Rey figured there was a sixty-forty chance, in favor of sense for once. Even still the cut on his lip re-opened, a fat bead of blood blooming before dripping down onto the carpeting.

Hux shoved away his least-cooperative Devotee and ordered them both to “shut the kriff up and get dressed.” Apparently part of their invitation included a new wardrobe of clothes to pick through, as there were several garment bags scattered around the room. Rey selected the first one that had what she assumed was an outfit for herself and locked herself in the ‘fresher.

“Kriffing morons,” she grumbled under her breath, pulling the garment out from the bag. She stopped for a moment to just _stare_ at the dress. What a dress it was. The fabric stretched from the hanger all the way to the floor, pooling there in folds of delicate cream. The bodice was coated in hundreds of tiny crystals fading into thin lines along the actual bottom of the dress. Her hand brushed over the paper-thin fabric, fearful that it would tear under too harsh a touch.

It had to be worth more than she’d ever earned in a lifetime of scrapping starships. And she was going to wear it to a royal gala. It was surreal, beyond her wildest dreams.

Rey shucked her tunic and leggings, hoping that she wouldn’t look ridiculous in the thing. Putting it on was an ordeal but she prevailed. She twisted herself in knots trying to get the rear zipper until it occurred to her that she was a _force user_. It was a matter of concentrating and the metal fastener was securely tugged up with nary a bite on her back.

Then came the struggle of painting on makeup. Somehow it was even worse than getting dressed. It was one thing to not be used to wearing elegant attire. Putting on clothes was far easier than navigating the veritable storefront of paints and powders that Myzach had supplied her with. The Sarkhai had a very strong tradition of facial painting, that much Rey had gleaned. Everyone from the guards to the palace workers to the queen herself had carefully applied designs.

Rey had zero confidence in being able to manage even a basic pattern. Worse, she feared that she would wear something insulting and offset the gains they’d attained yesterday in the colosseum. Then she’d have to sit through a whole lecture from Hux for messing things up and Kylo for making their stay even longer.

No, she would put some powder around her eyes, color her lips, and be done with it. One final check in the mirror and Rey was all set.

She slid the ‘fresher door open and re-joined the men. Hux was already changed, his militant efficiency unstoppable even when being badgered by Kylo. Speaking of the knight, he stopped midway through putting on pants to stare at Rey. His gaze was heated and she pointedly ignored the low thrum of pleasure that ebbed from her link with him. _He was a red-blooded male_ , she insisted to herself. _It was to be expected_.

“I guess they just wait for the fancy events to dress us up in gauze and glitter,” Rey said sharply, gesturing to her outfit. The heavy swallow from both men wasn’t the comforting response she hoped for. Stars, she’d settle for a snarky comment.

Kylo cleared his throat and turned back to finish getting dressed. Rey continued to ignore the red flush creeping along his ears. The general finally articulated himself, approaching her with uncertain steps. “You are a vision, truly,” he murmured, eyes darting from detail to detail.

Rey turned away. “I look ridiculous,” she insisted. “And there’s no way that I’m going to be able to follow through with everything they’re expecting of me.”

The general cupped her chin and gently - Hux? _Gentle?_ \- brought her face back to look at his. “I have utmost faith that you can manage putting in an appearance. The Sarkhai are practically falling over themselves to be able to claim they interacted with the esteemed First Order envoy,” he said.

“You are very much a part of that, Rey. Own it. Embrace it,” Hux ordered. “And if you look ridiculous then every other woman in that hall must be abhorrent because you have captured the beauty of a sun and no less.”

A snort came from Kylo’s direction. “If you want, I can go in the other room and give the pair of you some privacy. Save you the trouble of ordering me to,” he snapped.

Rey and Hux broke contact, setting off for opposite corners of the room. “That’s not necessary,” she hissed, rubbing at the skin under her collar. With the dress it simply looked to be an overly ornate necklace, but Rey knew the truth. The lie. The story they needed to sell to a people who thought of her as controllable.

Stars, they needed to leave Sarkhai as quickly as possible.

“Ren, finish getting dressed. _That’s_ your order,” Hux said, sneering.

Kylo sneered but continued to get his clothes on. They were different than Hux’s, who wore what Rey assumed to be a First Order dress uniform. It had the same high collar, rank insignia, and style as the normal uniform. It differed in the stark color change to snow white with golden piping along the seams. A few weeks ago Rey would have questioned just what events the First Order needed dress uniforms for but now, well, she was part of one.

Kylo’s outfit was more similar to Rey’s - intentional on the part of the Sarkhai, Rey was certain - but with a masculine touch. Rather than being robes, he was wearing a muted grey suit. The top had gilded leaves that fell in a pattern like Rey’s dress, starting off in great numbers at his shoulders before reducing to one or two at the base of the jacket. Rey spotted a vest on the bed, but the knight had forsaken it in favor of a the simple shirt underneath with a cream colored wrap about his waist.

He fidgeted with the jacket sleeves which were a touch too short, but it wasn’t noticeable unless he stuck his arms out above his head. The Sarkhai had underestimated just how tall Kylo was, which wasn’t terribly surprising.

“One quick thing,” Rey chirped, gesturing both men over. A quick tug on Kylo’s lapels straightened the set on his shoulders. Rey turned, the long trails on her sleeves fluttering a beat behind, and lifted up on her toes to reach the general’s height. She raked through his hair, fluffing it just so to be more natural.

Her hand shook slightly as she folded them together. “Now you’re both acceptable for the public,” she finished quickly.

Hux raised a hand to touch at his hair, surprise across his face. He didn’t change it back, much to Rey’s own shock. “Then let’s go.”

“You’re kidding, right?” said Kylo.

Both the general and Rey looked at him blankly.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Kylo made an expansive gesture with his hand in the direction of the potted face paints sitting atop the vanity.

Hux frowned at them. “That is a local custom; surely they do not expect us to partake.”

Kylo snorted. “No, not  _ us _ ; it’s clear we lowly force users are in a class of our own. You, however, will be spitting in the face of their tradition if you do not. Their markings clearly indicate family lineage and status.”

Hux approached the paints as if they were a viper, tentatively lifting the lid on a delicate pot. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” he murmured, looking back at Rey.

Rey shook her head and stepped back at that, equally alarmed at the idea of attempting to replicate the intricate painting patterns worn by their hosts.

“Stars above, you both are useless,” grumbled Kylo as he made his way over to the paints. He examined the colors before selecting an iridescent green so dark it was nearly black. Hux frowned as the other man coated the application brush in color.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Hux asked, staring at Rey’s master with narrowed eyes.

Kylo gripped the other man’s chin in his massive hand, tilting it just so while bearing down on him with a scathing look. “My grandmother was a queen of Naboo, so yes, I do know something of face painting culture,” he huffed as he began to apply complex geometry to the general’s face.

“Wait,” said Rey, “Does that make you-?”

“A prince?” he asked with a wry twist of his mouth. “No; Naboo is a democracy, though I can claim the title for Alderaan. Prince of a destroyed world, it’s fitting, isn’t it?” he mused.

The room was silent as he continued with his work. Rey watched the men breathing quietly in sync, Kylo breaking their intense stare only to dip his brush once again. There was something deeply stirring about the two powerful men locked in such an intimate moment.

Kylo dragged his thumb across Hux’s full bottom lip, erasing a minor mistake before gently blowing on the wet design, then setting his work with a powder. 

“There,” he pronounced at last.

Hux looked into the mirror above the vanity as if he were seeing himself for the first time. “Whose lines did you give me?” he asked.

“Mine,” said Kylo with a shrug. “It’s not as if anyone here will know them.”

The general snapped his gaze back to the other man and swallowed before speaking, but the knight beat him to it.

“Let’s go.” 


	7. Chapter Six

Galas, Rey soon found out, were essentially the same thing as the reception on the first night except with more people and less food. The buffet still held an impressive array of delicacies and flavors, but she was disappointed to discover that it was all intended as light finger food, snacks to savor between dances. She and her stomach grumbled for want of more substance until Hux flagged down Myzach. The aid immediately headed into the kitchens - still in her own very nice gown - and returned with a steak from the queen’s own herd.

Grateful, Rey found the next hour to be much more enjoyable. She even allowed Kylo a few bites of the meal, unable to deal with his not-so-subtle glaring. Anything to get him to stop staring at her. Their relationship was touchy, even more so after yesterday’s duel.

Ignoring him wasn’t on the table; Kylo was her master per her own agreement, and she was expected to train with the knight indefinitely. Even so, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the flare of warmth in her cheeks whenever he looked at her. She was downplaying her own attraction - she was woman enough to admit it - but there were extenuating circumstances. Kylo Ren wasn’t someone she should be attracted to. No one should want to pound their romantic partner’s face in. 

Rescue from another straight hour of silence came in an unexpected form. Hux had been fielding questions and polite sucking-up from the lesser nobility, including requests to “borrow” one or both of his Devotees for further demonstrations of their physical prowess. Trusting his political plotting, Rey had remained preoccupied with her quest to find something to eat rather than continue to pay attention. 

Myzach came back to their alcove near the front of the room, bowing respectfully and greeting “Lord Hux” in what Rey supposed was the proper way. She then turned her attention to Rey and bent to whisper in the Devotee’s ear. 

“I don’t mean to tell your Lord what to do, but I feel he must be told by someone that he’s being, well, rude,” the aide said urgently. 

Rey started. “How so? He’s been perfectly polite from what I can tell,” she replied.

Myzach paled. “He is and he isn’t. Yes he’s following all the proper titles and he is well within his right to deny anyone an audience with his Devotees, but it’s expected at some point that either the Lord or his Devotee dance.”

“He’s been asked to dance?” Rey asked, confused. 

“Not so much. Several of the other Lords or Ladies have begged his favor to dance with you and Devotee Ren and they have been denied,” Myzach explained.

Rey blinked. Since when did Hux risk the favor of the Sakhai for the sake of herself or Kylo? “Well, thank you for telling me,” she said, giving the woman a smile. “And I’m sure the Lord appreciates all your help with these matters of policy and protocol.”

Myzach bowed deeply and thanked her in turn before vanishing once again into the crowd. Rey turned her attention to the red-haired man seated just a few feet away. He sat ramrod straight in his chair, ever the image of perfect attention. Only his slow blinking eyes betrayed his boredom. 

It just didn’t mesh with her mental picture of the general that he would sacrifice anything for hers or Kylo’s comfort. She still had a tough time reconciling General Hux, commander of the First Order, with the red-faced man yesterday who had punched a wall after claiming to be concerned for their lives. There  _ must  _ have been another reason for his power play. Still, Rey wouldn’t let herself live with letting him continue on without at least attempting to pass on Myzach’s warning. 

She stood up, careful to keep from stumbling over her dress. Rey thanked for the dozenth time that her shoes were flat and slipper-like rather than high-heeled like some of the women around her. “General? A word?” she asked, smiling painfully at the woman currently speaking with him. She might have met the courtier before, but all the names and faces were starting to run together. 

Hux excused himself and followed Rey further in the alcove. “What is it?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “If you’re bored, I promise you that I am faring no better.”

Rey shook her head. “Nothing like that. Listen, Myzach told me you’re pissing people off by not dancing,” she explained. No sense sugar-coating it. He was always straight forward with her; she could do the same. 

“Excuse me?” he started, blinking rapidly. 

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Do I have to dumb it down more? People are mad that you’re not-”

“I understand that,” Hux interjected, waving a hand. “What does it matter to you? You’re not being paraded around like an object. I thought you’d be happy.”

Since when did the general give a damn if she was  _ happy _ ? Rey was surprised that the word even registered in his lexicon. Rey sputtered, faltering a moment. “I, uh, well… I’m glad? I guess? But it’s really not worth it if it’s going to turn people against us. You’ve been driving it into our heads for days now that everything we do is being watched and that we just have to deal with all the miserably embarrassing circumstances.”

She gestured to her neck. “I’m already wearing this thing. Kylo and I hacked at each other for the amusement of a whole stadium. I  _ think _ that a dance is the least imposing thing that could happen to either of us. Or yourself,” she said harshly. 

Hux hummed, staring at the ground as he thought. When he looked up, Rey couldn’t quite place the expression on his face. “You’re correct,” he said simply. 

He reached out slowly and took her hand. “What about a compromise? I will dance to appease customs, but I won’t force you or Ren to go with anyone else,” he offered. “Just myself, if you’ll have me.” Rey looked down at their clasped palms, recognition coming all at once.

“You want to dance with me?”

Smirking, Hux led them to the edge of the floor. “And I thought you had no promise.” Their clasped hands came up and his free hand laid on the small of her back. Rey followed his lead wordlessly, all clever retorts and repartee gone from her vocabulary.

She hadn’t noticed the music before but now it bounced and floated through her, guiding her feet in the quick-quick-slow, quick-quick-slow pattern of the dance. She spent the first minute trying to calm her furiously beating heart. Somehow being out here, all smooth motions and carefully selected steps, was worse than being in the arena yesterday. Fighting Kylo was second nature, attraction or not. 

Dancing with Hux was foreign, unanticipated. Rey didn’t have a plan for how to counter a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth or the way that his palm on her back radiated warmth. The band slowed and he pulled her a half step closer. 

“Let me guess,” he murmured, his lips now brushing against her ear as they pressed nearly chest-to-chest. “The desert scavenger has never waltzed before.” There was no venom in his tone, no harsh criticism dripping from every word. 

Rey swallowed her own sarcastic response. “I haven’t,” she admitted.

He chuckled and the sound vibrated deeply in his chest. She could feel it through her palm that rested on his shoulder. “Do you like it?” Hux asked, bringing them in a tight circle as the music faded into a new song. 

“It’s different,” Rey replied quickly. Her pulse was still racing. Kylo’s attention was firmly on them, she knew. He wasn’t even attempting to disguise his frustration, the noxious emotion seeping into Rey’s stomach to mix with the others that were threatening to evict her steak. Maybe this was why the gala didn’t serve real food. Dancing was stressful. 

She inclined her head towards their alcove. “He’s jealous. I would watch my back if I were you,” Rey interjected. The fingers on her back curled, possessive and sharp. A few seconds later and they were back to a gentle caress keeping Rey secured in Hux’s arms.

The general replied then, his voice tense in Rey’s ear and a little too loud for the music and their proximity. “He has nothing to be jealous of. I see no claim from him.” Rey laughed bitterly, prompting a follow up. “Not that you’re one who can be spoken for, I know that. Ren should learn before he earns himself another scar to match the first,” Hux added in a whisper. 

They spent the rest of the song in silence, Rey trying to piece together what the general meant and Hux gently rubbing circles on her back with his thumb. He stepped away first, dipping into a low bow that Rey was  _ certain  _ was not intended for a Devotee to receive. Then he returned to his previous mood, a meaningless, dull smile upon his face as he lead them back to their table. During the course of their dancing Hux had lead them in a small circuit of the floor, taking them farther away than Rey had realized. 

When the returned, Hux’s hand dropped from hers like a stone. “Where is Ren?” None of the awaiting nobles answered, murmuring to each other instead as they continued their conversations. Rey twisted her head about, reaching out into the Force for her master. He was blocking her deliberately, refusing to let her pinpoint his location.

Hux snarled, his fist coming down on the table with enough force to overturn the glasses of sparkling wine. “ _ Where is my Devotee _ ?” 


	8. Chapter Seven

The elegantly painted faces in front of him were useless. They were a step above grovellers, parading around like they had some significance to the general. It didn’t matter to him that they owned a “prestigious vineyard in the southern countryside of Valerm” if they couldn’t be of some use to him or the First Order. During negotiations they offered nothing and now they further vexed him, staring in shock as he demanded his co-commander be brought to him.

“He is mine by right and I demand to know where he is,” Hux insisted vehemently. He was causing a scene but dammit the man had it up to _here_ with all the hoops they needed to jump through.

A calming hand pressed on his shoulder - Rey. She was frowning, her stare a thousand miles away. “Well?” Hux asked, his hopes smashed as the girl returned to herself and shook her head. They would have to find the knight naturally.

Before he could throttle the next person to cross his path, Hux was greeted by the all-too-familiar voice of Duchess Clairvet. “Lord Hux, I do hope you will beg my pardon,” she called out, approaching the pair.

The general schooled his expression from fury into frustration. They still had to maintain appearances. “Your presence is never a bother.” A lie. “Tell me, you’re not behind the sudden vanishing of Devotee Ren.” A demand. Hux didn’t much care if he was pushing their position even farther from success by treating the woman as such; he was within his rights on this kriffing planet to be angry.

She smiled sweetly at him which only seemed to be further salt in the wound. “I was not the one who absconded with your Devotee, Lord Hux,” she answered, her words ringing with truth. “That honor belongs to her Majesty. See, they dance at the front of the hall.” One delicately shaped nail pointed towards the space just before the vacant throne.

A void surrounded a single pair of dancers; the queen and Ren, both of whom looked positively smug. Hux settled his jacket with a swift tug and started towards them. Rey dogged his footsteps but a twitch of his head sent her back to the table. This was his fight, not hers.

The song hadn’t ended for more than a moment when Hux had stepped into the empty floor space. “Your majesty,” he greeted, his teeth bared. “I believe you have something of mine.”

The queen was gracious enough to yield, stepping out from Kylo’s hold. “Would you care to cut in?” she asked, extending a hand towards the general. He considered her carefully, from the lavish jewels dripping from her neck and ears to the paint perfectly sketched across her nose. Of all the nobles to have spited him, the queen was the worst.

Hux was on a knife’s edge. Refusal would undoubtedly put him squarely against his own interests, insulting the royal. On the other hand, accepting her invitation negated his entirely understandable anger.

The general pursed his lips and inclined his head to the queen. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said. Hux stepped forward and took his Devotee’s hand. “He is mine after all.” In his mind’s eye he was cruel and cutting, kicking aside the woman’s request in favor of his own desires.

Kylo started, matching Hux’s steps by pure reflex. The knight surprisingly was not heavy handed, the palm by Hux’s shoulder placed there with the barest amount of pressure. “What are you _doing_?” Kylo hissed, shooting a furtive glance over his shoulder.

“Dancing.” Hux refused to meet the gaze of anyone around them. A dancer never put the audience above their partner.

Kylo sighed, hot air brushing over Hux’s face. It tickled at the dry flecks of paint, blowing the weakest off. “I can see that. Why are you dancing with _me_? Got tired of batting your eyes at my apprentice?” he said. Envy bit into his words. He was taking the general’s actions with Rey to heart with a vigor that stunned Hux.

“Because I wanted to, Ren, and I take what I want.”

\--- 

Rey somehow ended up getting the shower first, pushing past even Hux who still had a thick layer of face paint to take off. Kylo threw off his jacket and retreated onto his assigned spot of the bed to meditate while he waited for the shower. He hated meditating; the exercise hardly ever served it purpose. Many times he sought out the sanctuary of his own mind only to end up even more irritated than when he began.

With Rey around, it was even worse. She was omnipresent in the Force, still new at concealing herself within it. He felt her now, a bubbling pit of confusion and exhausted emotions. Pushing himself fully into her mind would keep him from the serenity he reached for. He couldn’t resist nudging against her though.

_ You won’t find your answers in the shower.  _

She rallied against him, forcing the knight out with vigor. Embarrassment still ebbed across from her; whatever she’d been thinking of was not intended for his attention. Kylo grinned. Any time that he could get a dig in at her was a success.

Seconds later, the shower turned off. Hux and Rey switched places after a nervous exchange. Kylo could feel her moving around the room, doing anything but address the man sitting on the bed. He’d had enough fun for now though. Any further pressing of Rey would only end in her lashing out violently. 

Kylo slowly breathed in and out, blocking out any further disturbances. The sounds and feelings around him faded into nothingness and the swell of the Force overtook his thoughts. That was the goal, at least. Practice rarely followed so smoothly and Kylo struggled to let go of a mental image of Hux and Rey at the gala.

It bothered him deeply, seeing them in each other’s arms. Logic insisted that it was meaningless; the general was using each of them for what he needed. Yet it still ate at him, the swell of enjoyment and growing attraction for Hux that he felt in Rey’s thoughts. She was growing fond of him.

Rey was supposed to be his. And Hux… well, Hux was supposed to be nothing. A pest. He was a constant source of misery. The man had no appreciation for the intricacies that were part of the responsibilities of the Knights. He approached everything with a single minded determination which would be admirable if Kylo had a shred of respect for the general. 

Which he didn’t.

“Ren, move.” There was that single mindedness, right on schedule. Kylo cracked open one eye, noting that the room was plunged in darkness. 

Hux stood out like a beacon, pale and still wearing his white dress pants. “I’m meditating,” he retorted. “Go around.”

Much to chagrin, Hux did no such thing. “You’re audibly grumbling under your breath about how I’m a terrible person,” the general drawled. “I must have missed that lesson on proper concentration. Now please move.”

Kylo took his time, stretching languidly before finally sliding off the bed. He didn’t even even up taking a shower in the end. Yesterday’s battle was wearing on him, especially after sitting around for twelve hours straight today. His ribs ached and he returned all too quickly to the damned shared bed. 

They each laid there in silence, tucked up under the sheets. Neither Kylo nor his companions had yet fallen asleep. Tension filtered into the air. Rey was dying to say… something. The exact thought was squirreled away from Kylo’s casual dip into her mind, an iron-clad wall locking it away for her to agonize over alone.

“Oh stars, can we just shout at one another and be done with it?” Hux snapped. He was glaring openly at the ceiling. 

Rey’s voice floated over from where she was lying. “I have nothing to say to either of you.”

“Liar.” 

She sputtered and pushed herself up onto her elbow. “I’ve told you before; get out of my head,” Rey ordered. The effect was lessened by tufts of her hair that stuck up in odd angles. Kylo rather liked how she looked now. Her usual tight hairstyle was falling out, giving her a more relaxed appearance.

“Stop thinking about what I do or don’t look like,” she added. “I get enough of that from the ginger general here.”

Hux threw up a hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Both men were watching her intently. Kylo narrowed his eyes, untameable jealousy and frustration returning unbidden. “She means you can quit lavishing her with praise when she dresses up for your stupid ploys.”

The general huffed, ignoring Kylo. “Do you dislike my compliments, Rey?” he asked earnestly. “Say the word and I will stop. I never intended to upset you.”

A long silence stretched between the trio. Kylo prayed to every god - known or unknown - for… something. Anything to quiet the frustration eating him from the inside out. He just wished he knew what that solution would be. 

The mattress bowed as Rey rolled onto her side. Waiting on baited breath, Kylo sharpened his link to the girl. Through the exhaustion and the mixed feelings of hatred, respect, and attraction was a growing bubble of resolve. “General -” she began.

“I have a name,” he interjected, a parody of her speech on the shuttle, “and it isn’t ‘General.’”

“ _ Hux _ ,” she amended. “You don’t upset me. It’s more complicated than that, though. I can’t explain it well, but I feel…” Rey paused, choosing her words carefully. “I’m conflicted. On one hand you’re charming - when you want to be - and clever and impressive but on the other you can be cruel and manipulative. And there’s the whole destroying an entire star system thing.”

The general sighed and closed his eyes. “An entirely valid military target whose fleet threatened the Order by nature of its very existence,” he replied curtly. Rey started a counterpoint, but he was ready for her. Kylo had a feeling he’d run through the argument before to himself.

“The civilian lives lost were just as tragic during the invasion of Starkiller. How many families of officers do you think were living on that station? The Order doesn’t function on single young men and women alone.”

Rey deflated, sinking back into her pillow. Silence fell once more between them. Kylo huffed and threw the blankets off, moving to re-enter the ‘fresher. “Enjoy your lover’s quarrel,” he called over his shoulder. “I’d rather sleep in the kriffing shower than listen to you two bicker.”

Hux finally addressed his co-commander. “You’re kidding, right? Stop walking away, Ren.”

The knight threw the door open with a thrust of Force. “I’m done listening to your orders. You won the girl,  _ Hux _ . You don’t win me, too,” he yelled. 

“Kylo, please come back.” He jolted to a halt, one hand still up to slam the door behind him. Hux  _ never _ called him Kylo. It was always Ren. He was a title, a vexing thorn in the general’s side. Hux didn’t think of him as a person. It wasn’t possible. 

Slowly, his teeth ground tight as he fought with every part of himself to keep from lashing out, Kylo looked back at the bed. Light filtered in from behind him, sketching out the planes of Hux and Rey’s forms before fading in the depths of the room. Hurt shone back at Kylo, backed by a suckerpunch of Rey’s unchecked emotional storm. 

Hux twitched his head back as if to check with Rey before splaying his hand on the spot Kylo had just vacated. “It’s… not a one or the other thing,” he said. Uncertainty radiated from him. All the pieces fell into place. The reason why Rey refused to address his advances. Hux’s painful distancing from either of them. His own blasted envy seeing them together.

He… wanted them both. They were a matched pair, a set he needed to have by his side to balance out his own damnable inhibitions. 

Kylo licked at his lips, biting down hard on the scabbed over cut. Pain grounded him. He had to be sure he wasn’t making a mistake. Trusting both of them to bear his failings and subjecting himself to theirs wasn’t to be taken lightly. The taste of iron and salt dripped onto his tongue. Dark eyes watched him, light reflecting back tiny mirrors of his silhouette. 

His feet carried him back to them before he registered making the decision.

\---

Waking up in a tumble of numb limbs and nervous “oh, sorries,” was pretty much what Hux expected. Kylo was the last to wake, languidly stretching before allowing the general to make his way out from under the covers. Typical. 

Getting dressed proceeded normally, though Hux allowed Rey to fidget with his hair before leaving again. It wasn’t as messy - in his eyes anything other than regulation styling was a mess, though Rey was gradually changing that opinion - but even he had to admit his hair had more flair than usual.

Kylo complained about having to deal with another day of negotiations. Hux ignored him, not because the constant stream of misery was frustrating but because he had a plan. Finally. 

He strode into the conference room and didn’t even bother sitting down. “Right, then,” he drawled. “I got a true sense of Sarkhai ‘diplomacy’ last night from your own queen.” He glared swiftly at the Duchess before resuming looking over the entire delegation. “Now that I know you don’t actually give a damn about the respect owed to a Lord and his Devotees, I think we can firmly put a close to these negotiations. Thank you for your consideration-”

Nobles flew into action, panic across their faces as they spoke over each other to stop him. 

Hux allowed himself a small smile; victory was so easily won with a weak opponent. “The only thing that could bring me back to this table would be an earnest discussion of the terms set forth by my coalition. I don’t think that’s too unreasonable to ask after being so thoroughly insulted by your dear queen,” he admitted finally once the nobles finally settled down. 

It was only a matter of an hour and half before Hux left the chambers with a legally binding promise from the Sarkhai agreeing to every single term the First Order had originally dictated. They rolled over faster than even he had anticipated as soon as he’d threatened to revoke any promise to support their trading coalitions in the new Galactic Order. He was almost sad to be leaving after a scant three-and-a-half days on the planet’s surface. 

Then again, they had an hour-plus long shuttle ride back to the Finalizer to look forward to. 


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey ties up some loose ends once the trio has resumed "normal" life on board the Finalizer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how late this ended up being!! I had hoped to get this out sooner but between mental exhaustion with this fic and a thousand other RL issues, the delay ended up a lot longer than anticipated. This is the original idea that ThatFinalGasp and I had come up with. Hope you all enjoy!! - Fecky

Rey fidgeted with the strap of the case in her hand. She had thought she’d worked through the nerves weeks ago when the idea had first come to her. She wiped her palms on her robes for the umpteenth time. Clearly that was not the case.

Fate decided it was time for her to go inside as Kylo rounded the corner to enter the hallway. He didn’t question her presence; it wasn’t unusual for either of them to be lingering outside of the general’s quarters, not since the start of their… relationship.

He merely inclined his helmeted head at her and stood beside her as Rey quickly hit the signal. Hux answered curtly. “What?”

Rey cleared her throat and answered in stuttering fragments. “Hux, it’s Rey. Well I’m with… Kylo is here too,” she stammered. Crimson rose on her cheeks, especially as Kylo’s helmet tipped just so. What an elegant orator she was. One could hardly be surprised that she let Kylo give reports when they needed to.

She hurried into Hux’s quarters as soon as the doors slid open, not wanting to be subjected to Kylo’s curious stares. It was now or never to just bring up her idea and see what the pair of men thought of it. She was already swimming in embarrassment. Might as well jump straight to drowning in it.

Another cough cleared her throat and Rey placed the case on Hux’s desk. “Don’t say anything until you hear me out,” she insisted quickly. Rey ignored how Kylo tugged his helmet off to watch carefully or how Hux stared her down with a single eyebrow raised just so.

“So I shouldn’t open this?” Hux questioned lightly.

Rey shook her head, curls of escaped hair tickling her flushed cheeks. “In a moment. I… I wanted to…” Her voice dropped off as her mouth felt drier than the sands of her past home. Closing her eyes, she counted to three and started again.

Looking between the pair of men was easier. A glance at one before swapping to the other. “Really, it’s for both of you. I’ve already got mine and I thought… well I thought it would be something that would sort of let us all know that this -” a quick gesture to each of them was the best way to describe their relationship “- was truly something. A connection,” Rey explained in bursts and nervous twitches of her smile.

Kylo’s eyebrows knitted; she’d been hiding the idea in the back of her mind for a while now, concealing it from his attention while they trained and went out on missions together. “Ta-da,” Rey said weakly, holding up her wrist even as Hux opened the latches on the case.

Three circlets of metal, well two and an empty slot in the foam, sat in the case. Rey’d already clasped hers on, the bracelet cinched just above the bend of her wrist. The piece was still delicate, winding around her arm twice, with the shards of crystal displayed in neat rows. Her collar had been narrower than Kylo’s. Even reworked, it carried the edge of _ownership_. It felt wrong to lock hers on by her own hand; for now it stayed on by gravity alone.

The two bracelets seated in the case were scavenged from Kylo’s collar, cleaved in two to form the cuffs that had been sized to fit the general and his co-commander. Gaining the measurements had been a task and a half; while Kylo did wear sometimes wear tighter knit fabrics than his flowing robes, finding footage of either man with their wrists visible to pull data from was a struggle. She’d eventually struck gold when she’d stumbled upon medical scans - Kylo for an injury and Hux for a routine physical.

Rey found herself tugging at her sleeve, pulling it over the edge of her bracelet and dragging it back to her elbow. “They’re sized. Kylo’s is on the left and Hux that’s yours in the center,” she said. It was difficult to read the room.

Her words broke the silent reverie. Kylo tore his eyes from her wrist to look back at the case and take the cuff held up by Hux. He slid it on and fiddled with the catch. It closed but didn’t latch, hanging not-quite-tightly enough to his skin.

“What is this for?” Hux asked, holding a familiar key that had been tucked in a small indent in the foam, directly under his bracelet. A thin chain looped around the tiny twist of silver, pooling in Hux’s palm. Rey held up her wrist in explanation, pointing to the clasp.

“It seemed right. That they all still be closed with a key.”

“My key.” It wasn’t a question. The general bit his lip, his tell. He was thinking, too hard perhaps. Rey’s heart ratcheted into high speed. Concern reignited in her head. That was the final straw. She had gone too far.

Kylo stepped forward, shoving his wrist into Hux’s face. His free hand went to rest on Rey’s shoulder, a comforting touch. His helmet had ended up on the general’s floor at some point, dropped carelessly. “Clever little thing, our Rey,” Kylo purred. “Stop overthinking it, Hux. Your sleeve will cover yours and you can keep the key. If you try to make a duplicate, I _will_ use it for blaster practice.”

That spurred Hux into action. He put down his own bracelet - ever careful not to damage the crystals by dropping it unceremoniously - and carefully cinched Kylo’s cuff closed. Watching him turn the key, Rey felt her stomach settle once more. Kylo repaid the favor for Hux, keeping the bracelet from pinching Hux’s alabaster skin while the general locked the catch shut, before the key was draped over his neck and tucked carefully under his shirt.

He addressed Rey, finally, reaching over the expanse of burnished durasteel to cup her chin fondly. “You never cease to amaze, dear Rey,” he murmured. “Clever indeed.” She leaned in to his touch, excitement fighting against her careful composure.

“I didn’t lock mine,” she explained. She didn’t move, didn’t bring up her wrist or push like Kylo had. The very air seemed to flex and bend, buzzing in her ears.

Hux removed his hand. Slowly, each motion deliberate, Hux wound his way from behind the desk to stand in front of Rey. He was close, probably far closer than she would allow any other person to be. “Of course you didn’t,” Hux intoned. His voice was low, controlled. “That would be my privilege.” 

He didn’t flinch, reaching down to take her hand without breaking eye contact. He held her hand by mere fingertips, guiding her to twist her wrist to reveal the latch.

“You are mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Simply put, our prompt that we chose to go with was "Anything Reylux" so we hope that this fulfills your desires!


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